"Um... well... um... I think... there could be something... it's in the records... I can check, if you'd like... it might... um... take an hour... a few hours... I think..."

Gerald Epurier

From his earliest days, Gerald "knew" what he wanted to be. He wanted to be a professor at Harvard. His parents told him this so many times from when he was less than two that he eventually wanted to believe it. His grandfather had been an instructor there, his father was an instructor there, and he would be joining the faculty as soon as he could. Knowing what he wanted, Gerald dove into his studies from an early age and, with a great deal of tutoring and a habit for remembering anything he saw, he started to become what his parents knew he would be all along - a genius.

Being a genius had its' down-sides though: he never had any friends growing up because he was too good for the other mongrel children in the area to play with. He also never stepped outside his house, and never picked up anything but books or pencils, and remained unskilled throughout his early life. When he finally did go to Harvard (at 17, which was quite something for the time) he had to attend small classes, or go to special one-on-one sessions with instructors because he was so shy around his peers. They called him "Jittery Gerald' because he was always so nervous, and despite his parents' attempts to integrate him with people his age it never quite worked.

Gerald eventually graduated with dual degrees in Astronomy and Physics, and then received a masters in the budding field of what would eventually be called Astrophysics. That was fine, but then his parents pulled strings to get him a job teaching low-level classes, and that was something he just couldn't do. He loved his science, but being near other people he didn't knw scared him: how could he teach a whole roomfull of students?

He stayed at Harvard as an instructor for a full term. Then, one day, his parents (with whom he was still residing) discovered that he'd disappeared. He'd taken some old work clothes and that was it. They tried their best to track him down, but to no avail. To their dying day they never heard from him again.

Gerald, for his part, had no real idea where he was, either. That fateful morning he'd just gotten the clothes and left without any idea what he was doing or where he was going, except that he needed to travel light and fast. And off he had hopped on a train going West, riding in old box cars with the hobos. He'd always wanted to explore the outside world, but he had no idea just how vast it really was or what he'd need.

The bums gave him a wide berth when they realized how jittery he was, but after a time they warmed up to him and taught him some basic survival skills. A small group of them took him in and called him "Jumpy Gerald," which sounded a whole lot better than "jittery" to him. And they travelled from one railcar to the next, going from place to place looking for work and handouts. They had no idea the person they were travelling with was used to eating smoked salmon for breakfast and rubbing elbows with people whose IQs were too high to be counted accurately, and he never told them either.

And then, one night, something happened. Gerald isn't sure exactly what took place. They were getting ready to hunker down, Gerald closed his eyes, and the next time he opened them someone was pulling him out of a caul.

The fact that he rose up to Overlord status is more to do with Anacreon Nancy Cardomom's influence than anything else. The Legion of Paupers is small, and needs to put qualified people in place regardless of how long they've been around. She elevated him from plebe Legionnaire to Overlord over the space of five years, mostly because she knew that if he was left to the lower ranks to deal with they'd find an excuse to turn him into coins, due to his shyness and inability to deal with other people.

She has him work at the El Dorado office with her as a scientific advisor and keeper of records while she tries to help him piece together what happened to him. Thus far, they've located his body, buried in a shallow grave outside of town.

Nature: Drifter

Demeanor: Follower

Cohort: Pauper Legion - Overlord

Born: 1911

Died: 1930

Life: Scared genius

Death: Total Mystery

Regret: Never found what he was looking for... whatever that was...?

Physical: Strength 3, Dexterity 3, Stamina 3

Social: Charisma 1, Manipulation 1, Appearance 3

Mental: Perception 3, Intelligence 5 (Brilliant), Wits 3

Talents: Alertness 4, Athletics 2, Awareness 2, Brawl 3, Dodge 3, Streetwise 3

Skills: Melee 1, Instruction 2, Crafts 2 (repair)

Knowledges: Bureaucracy 2, Law 2, Science 5, Astronomy 5, Physics 5

Backgrounds: Backgrounds: Allies 2 (Penitent Overlord Edy Cox, Renegade Sid Sin), Artifact 2 (Overlord Mask), Contacts 3, Eidolon 2, Mentor ?, Status 4 (Hierarchy - Overlord), Connection 4 (Bums on trains), Relic 5 (Old train engine)

Passions: Escape responsibility (Fear) 5, Explore the world (amazement) 3, Learn anything and everything (Pride) 2

Fetters: Old box car 4, Body 2, Book of science fiction stories 3

Arcanoi: Argos 2, Inhabit 4, Pandemonium 3, Puppetry 3

Willpower: 6

Corpus: 10

Permanent Angst: 4

Shadow: The Pusher

Thorns: Aura of corruption 3, Dark allies 1

Dark Passions: Pervert authority (Hate) 4, Get power over others (Envy) 3

Merits: Lightning calculator (+1), Mechanical aptitude (+1), Eidetic memory (+2), Renegade Boon (+2)

Flaws: Shy (-1), Unskilled (-5)

Image: Gerald looks much like he did in his university days: a young man, dressed in a smart suit and tie that's rather disheveled and not tucked in very well. His brown hair is mussed up and wild, and his eyes are always darting about from interest to interest. His Aura of Corruption thorn takes the form of the smell of old axle grease, rusting metal and soot: the smells of a trainyard.

Role Playing: Droop your head. Figet a lot around other people. Hardly anything makes you comfortable, really.

None of this makes sense, and you can't understand any of it at all. You have no concept of political acumen, and let very important information slip out as a matter of fact statement rather than testing the waters or bargaining first. You've managed to not spill any of your big secrets, so far, but even if you did... well... would anyone take you seriously.

You're only at your best when you're alone, working on something. Especially when you're tinkering around with the "space engine."

Shadow: "Why are you bothering hanging out with these low-bred whingers? Your destiny is somewhere else. Let me help you get there..."

What's past is prologue, dammit. Gerald's meant for bigger and better things - especially in Oblivion's service - and once he can be made to see what a bunch of losers the Paupers are, he can get on with it. Just so long as he can be kept alone, with only you for company, this will be fairly easy to do...

Big Secrets: Gerald's just full of them.

He knows a few things about Anacreon Cardomom that most don't. He knows that she talks to that weird Fate person quite a bit, and that they're good friends. He also knows that her and the Emerald Anacreon get along really well. He thinks they're in love, but he's not sure about that - Anacreon King might just be really flowerly around the ladies. He also knows that she leaves the office every once in a while to go talk to someone she won't talk about. Weird.

And then she's always praying. When she's near him he can feel this great power coming from within her, sometimes, like a very warm ray of sunlight in a cold room. She's also got one of those powers no one is supposed to have, which is why she never blinks, but he doesn't like to think about that at all.

He has a girlfriend, sort of. She's the overlord of the Penitent legion, Edy Cox. She really, really likes him but he's not so crazy about her (note that he has her listed as an Ally, but she only has him as one of her Contacts, since that's really all she can count on him for, despite what she may think). She tells him all about things that go on at the Penitent Legion, and he tells Anacreon Cardomom what he hears... most of which makes her angrier than ever before at the Anacreon of the Penitent Legion.

Some time back, when he was out exploring, he came across a group of wraiths who were doing something silly to a Nomenklatura. He thought it was funny and helped join in the fun, on a whim, and then they all ran away when the patrols came by. When the circle learned he was an Overlord they promised they'd do him a favor if he kept quiet about who they were, and he agreed. They're such nice guys, after all. (he has no idea why he did that at all - for some reason he didn't feel shy around these people) So he has a boon from a group of Renegades.

About ten years ago, on one of his frequent trips to the Shadowlands to escape the confines of El Dorado, Gerald made a lucky find - a big, Relic locomotive engine, out North of town. He did his best to camoflague it, and keeps it secret. It's his getaway card. He's saving up his oboli to buy relic parts or have them made, and sometimes asks his girlfriend to sneak something away from the forges for him. One day, when it works, he's going to leave a note, disappear in his flying locomotive engine, and then he'll go exploring again.

And then there's his mentor. he doesn't know who he is or even what he looks like; the guy wears a long, brown cloak and just appears sometimes to give him advice. He's almost always right, too. He taught Gerald how to use Pandemonium and Puppetry, and every once in a while he brings him something useful for the engine.